We spoke often, she spoke all the time. I would encourage her to elaborate and, more often then not, she would. The words were seemingly compulsory, and it was not uncommon for her face to crease up during a particularly unsettling revelation. In the interest of full disclosure, I was told everything, and for her benefit, I physically simulated body language indicative of trepidation.

I wanted to know more and for some reason she liked to get vulnerable when only I was around. Maybe, the last time another person dictated the facial hair situation, if memory serves. I asked her questions I would never answer and she tried to shock me by being blunt and she did. We didn't just talk though, we were too well funded.

I never shared my philosophies, and I never told her who I admired. I never broke eye contact, and I always kept an incendiary device close at hand. At all times. Her home was built specifically to defy the arroyo, with a subterranean parking garage nestled deep in the granite bedrock. My opinions were often sought during a vehicular acquisition. My rules were stern, and I had no tolerance for over-engineering. We will keep this simple. I will drive you, and you will most certainly surrender to my sensibilities. Eventually, she learned to anticipate, and I exited my lobby to a delicious piece of evocative design.